Nuit d’etoiles
Night of stars, beneath your veils,
Beneath your breezes and your scents,
A sad lyre that sighs,
I dream of dead loves.

The serene melancholy comes bursting
In the depth of my heart,
And I hear the soul of my love
Tremble in the dreaming woods.

In the leafy shadows,
When I sigh very quietly,
You return, poor awakened soul,
All white in your shroud.

I see again at our fountain
Your gaze, blue as the sky;
This rose, it is your breath,
And these stars are your eyes.

Ein Traum
Once I dreamed a lovely dream:
a blond maiden loved me,
it was in the vast green woods,
it was in the warm springtime:
the buds sprang into bloom, the forest brook swelled,
from the distant village pealed the bells,
we were filled with wonder,
and overcome with bliss.

But sweeter still did once I dream,
a dream that then came true:
it was in the vast green woods,
it was in the warm springtime;

the forest brook swelled, the buds sprang into bloom,
bells pealed from the village:
I held you close, I held you long
and never, never shall I let you go!
Never, nevermore!

Oh, woods green with spring,
you live in me through all of time!
There reality became the dream,
there the dream became reality!

O falce di luna
O crescent of a waning moon
you that shine on the deserted waters,
o silver crescent, what harvest of dreams wavers
in your pale glow down here!

Short breaths of leaves
of flowers, ripples from the woods
go forth to the sea, no song, no cry,
no sound goes through the vast silence.

Oppressed by love, by pleasure,
the whole world is fast asleep.
O waning crescent, what harvest of dreams
wavers in your pale glow down here!

Soir d’hiver
A young woman rocks her child.
She's alone, she weeps, but she sings,
For he has to hear
the sweet and tender song so he'll fall asleep.

"Christmas is here, my little child of blue.
The bells will ring,
bringing happiness to you."

The man she loves has gone...
and the song stops!
She says:
"Where is he now?
Does he hear my voice?
and does he know that I'm alive?"

She weeps so simply
that it makes her heart hurt.
She gazes at her son
and sees if he resembles
the one for whom she waits untiringly,
with all her soul, with all her tenderness!

She weeps, but she hopes!
She hears Victory from afar,
she guesses it's a thankless struggle,
yet she believes in Justice,
she knows that a whole life, happy and proud,
has been given over, and she waits
next to this tiny cradle,
that holds a man's heart.

Preludios
Mother, every night outside my window lattice,
a youth sings sadly of my coolness:
“Love me, maiden, and you shall be blessed before the altar.
Love me, maiden, and you shall be blessed before the altar.”

This sweet tune has such power
That hearing it can move me to heartache and to gladness;
Tell me how these songs can impart both sadness and joy.
Tell me how these songs can impart both sadness and joy.

“Daughter, what girls like you feel
When such songs waft through their windows
Is prelude to the greatest
Poem in the world.

“Transforming a pure Virgin into the Holy Mother,
Sorrows and joys alternating within her,
And this poem is, daughter, what has begun outside your window lattice.”

Nana
Go to sleep, Child, sleep,
Sleep, my soul,
Go to sleep, little star
Of the morning.
Lulla-lullaby,
Lulla-lullaby,
Sleep, little star
of the morning.

Como quieres que adivine
How can you expect me to guess
if you’re awake or asleep?
An angel isn’t dropping down from heaven
to tell me!
How can you expect me to guess?
Joy and more joy,
beautiful dove, when you’re mine,
when you’re mine, when you will,
beautiful dove, honor me!

When I go for firewood, up the mountain
oh yes, my girl, and I get tangled in the thicket,
and I see the white snow, oh yes, my girl,
I remember your beauty.
I’d like to be a ring (just for awhile)
in your earring,
to whisper in your ear
what my heart feels.

The stars are counted by me, oh yes, my girl,
to see which one pursues me.
It’s not Venus, oh yes, my girl,
but a tiny one, that shines steadily,
Joy and more joy,
beautiful dove, when you’re mine,
when you’re mine, when you will,
beautiful dove, honor me!
How can you expect me to guess?

Du bist wie eine Blume
You are like a flower,
So lovely and beautiful and pure;
I look at you, and melancholy
Creeps into my heart.

It feels as if I should lay my hands
On your head,
Praying that God will keep you
So pure and beautiful and lovely.

Petit cours de morale
Jeanne
In the great City of London
lives someone who is more alone
than a shipwrecked man or a shrouded corpse.
He lives on a small private income,
Jeanne, and his trade is that of spectator.
Adèle
An eccentric young idler from Dover,
Walked along the White Cliffs and fell over.
Alone he met grief, forlorn on a reef,
This eccentric young idler from Dover.
Cécile
The grand man of Lancaster
attracts you with flowers and buries you in scents.
Soon his pipe is your morning star!
Unfortunately, Cécile,
it's only a short hop from the lily to the poppy.
Irène
The Lord Provost of Edinburg always said that love was an illusion,
until the day he lost his mother.
He is weeping still.
Irène, my little Irène, love is terrible sorrow.
Rosemonde
Spencer's wife asked him what he had seen during his exile
in Rome, Vienna, Pergamo and Calcutta.
"Nothing," he replied.
If you want to see the world, close your eyes, Rosemonde.

Liebst du um Schönheit
If you love for beauty,
Oh do not love me!
Love the sun,
It has gold hair!

If you love for youth,
Oh do not love me!
Love the spring-time
That is young each year!

If you love for wealth,
Oh do not love me!
Love the mermaid,
Who has many limpid pearls!

If you love for love,
Oh yes, love me!
Love me forever;
I will love you forevermore!

Zueignung
Yes, you know it, dearest soul,
How I suffer far from you,
Love makes the heart sick,
Have thanks.

Once I, drinker of freedom,
Held high the amethyst beaker,
And you blessed the drink,
Have thanks.

And you exorcised the evils in it,
Until I, as I had never been before,
Blessed, blessed sank upon your heart,
Have thanks.